Waiting Game
by bankss
Summary: AU! Peeta Mellark never wanted the life of a Capitol citizen, and when he's forced to marry Finnick Odair, the heartthrob of the Capitol, he begins to transform into exactly what he feared most. In a twist of fate he finds himself fearing something more. Love.


_**Author's Note:** Okay, here's another one. _

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hunger Games._

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><p>Chapter One<p>

**11 months. **

Waiting is the hardest part. Waiting is always the hardest part.

I lie awake in my satin-sheeted bed with my head on my pillow. Stale tears stain the white cottoned pillow but it's not an unusual habit for me to cry myself to sleep. It's a release.

Golden rays of sun streak through the curtain near my head and strike the objects on my nightstand. A book, paintbrushes, a half glass of water, and a clear acrylic palette lie on the dark wood stand. Painting is a release, too.

I sit up in my bed and a yawn escapes my pale, pink lips. The bed I lie in is plush and undoubtedly the best bed I have ever slept in. They didn't have beds like this back in 12 and I doubt they have beds like this in any of the other districts, for that matter. Even though it can put me to sleep for days, I still feel uncomfortable every time I sleep in it. And it's because of him. Finnick Odair.

I can still feel the way he used me on my first night here. My stomach turns in tiny knots as I think of him thrusting into me. I can feel my hatred for him grow slightly every time I see him or merely think of him. Which is often, considering I have to live in his house. Well, house isn't the right word to use. Mansion, palace even, better suits what to call what we live in. It's more so his father's, but it's still unsettling to know he's just down the hall and could do whatever he wants to me in a moment's notice…

I hear clacking of heels promptly making their way down the hall and I know exactly where those heels are heading. Straight to me.

Effie Trinket bursts through my bedroom door and recites her daily mantra in her high-pitched voice, "Up, up, up! It's going to be a big, big, big day!"

Effie has always been quite eccentric ever since the day I first met her. I was 13 and she was haunting. Her face is always caked with makeup and she constantly wears a whitish grin. Her hair is not her hair, it's a wig. She sports various wigs and todays choice is a bright pink with an orange flower adorning it. Her tight dress is a pale green which reminds me of the springtime.

She begins to strut over to my bedside and I groan rather loudly. I sink back into my sheets, hoping they will suffocate my soul. I plant my face into my pillow and let a muffled cry.

"No, no, no Peeta, we won't be having any of that today," Effie says as she trots over to me and yanks my cover back, exposing me to the cold draft of the morning. "It will be quite a day today, so we must get a good start."

I lift myself upwards and sit with my back on the headboard. I smack my lips to make them less dry and grumble out, "Effie, you say that it will be a big day every day," I scratch my head —which is a complete blonde mess by the way— and raise my arms in a stretch.

Effie reaches towards the curtains and pulls them apart, completely exposing my room to the vicious rays of the sun. "And every day it is true."

I roll my eyes and swing my legs over the side of the king-sized bed. My feet dangle a little because the bed is lifted off of the ground which makes the mattress seem even thicker. My arms are straight down and I grip the bed as if I am about to lift off of it, but I don't. I sit there and wiggle my toes slightly around the cold air. My eyes focus on the ground and I zone out a little.

The room grows silent and I look up to see Effie holding one of my paintings.

"I see you've gone back to painting," She says, running her hands over the image. "What is it supposed to depict and why is it only red?" She asks while examining the painting.

"Its blood," She looks at me with a shocked expression and I continue, "Painted from my actual blood," Her mouth forms into a frown.

"Are you serious?"

"No, Effie," I chuckle. She never gets my jokes, even if they do have an underlying truth. "It isn't real blood."

"Don't joke like that Peeta, it makes me worrisome."

"Sorry, Fie, I didn't mean to freak you out." That's a lie.

Effie puts her hands on her hips, "Anywho, I was sent up here to fetch you for your breakfast with Mr. Odair. The cameras will be rolling so I expect you to be ready." She pauses and looks at my hair, "And, make sure you do something with that hair, my goodness, Peeta," She says as she begins to pat down my untamed hair. "Were you fighting a lion last night?" She asks sarcastically.

_If that lion had a malicious smile, sea green eyes, and a scent of an ocean breeze. Then, yes I did. _I think before rolling my eyes and grumbling out, "Something like that."

Effie speaks before I can think another thought, "Now, I expect you to be in the styling studio in ten minutes. Your prep team will be up there waiting for you, so hurry and brush your teeth and what not, ok?" She says and turns on her heel, not even waiting for my reply. As she is about to exit my room she turns back and her nose crinkles a little.

"And open a window in here, it smells quite rancid in here." And in the next moment she's gone. Heels echo down the hallway.

I look around my room which is always spotless in the morning. The Capitol hates messes, especially ones that take too long to clean up. _The avoxes must have been in here earlier. _I think before getting off of my bed and stretching out my tightened limbs. Avoxes are something like servants of the Capitol. They clean houses, prepare food, take care of the citizen's children. All of the things that the Capitol residents think that they are too good for. I learned of avoxes after moving here from District 12.

District 12. A place I used to call home, but now just a distant memory sitting in a jar in the back of my mind. I can't bear to think of all that I was forced to leave behind, it may not have been much, but at least it was home.

I sit myself down at the white vanity set on the right side of my room and stare at myself in the mirror. Faint bags mark my white skin under my crystal blue eyes. Ashy locks that usually fall in waves around my head, stick up in every which way. I know that this will be the last time I see my true self before I am plucked, tweezed and powdered into perfection.

I get up and head towards the bathroom in my room. Other than the food, the only thing that I like about the Capitol is their bathrooms, particularly the showers. It has hundreds of buttons that can be used for just about anything. Shampoos, soaps, lotions, you name it and it will be there for your use. I press a button and a steady stream of warm water comes out from the showerhead. I step into the shower and let the water wash over me. I lather up my skin with soaps that have scents of lilacs and my hair is washed with shampoos that smell of strawberries. I close my eyes and let the aromas fill my nose.

When you step out of the shower you don't even need a towel because you're immediately hit with air to dry you off. My skin feels brand new and I walk to my drawer to pull out underwear. I slip them on and go back to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

As the bristles work their way on my molars, my eyes settle on my hips reflected in the giant mirror above the porcelain sink. Faint purple marks discolor my pale white skin. Somehow, he manages to leave imprints on my heart as well as my body.

Venia will certainly be livid about the marks on my hips, as well as, the red ones on my neck and collarbone.

I finish brushing my teeth and rinse my face off. I rub the marks on my collarbone and wince. I slip on a creamy robe, not even thinking about putting on clothes because I know they will be removed when I get to the studio.

I make my way out of my room, feet bare and cold on the furnished marble tiles of the floor. I turn left and head up the red velvet stairway. The stairway wraps up in a circular outline and it doesn't take long to reach the studio, which is just one floor above my bedroom. I reach the open corridor and turn right towards the hall leading to the stylist studio. The walls of the hall are lined with paintings of flowers, gardens, small children. The studio lies at the end of the hallway, an Avox, named Lavinia pulls open the door for my entrance. I quickly thank her and step into the studio.

I find Venia, Octavia, and Flavius standing in a small circle in the middle of my room. _Oh good, the whole team is here. _They talk amongst each other near a vanity set, other prep team members are scattered about the room. The room itself is a magnificent beige color. Its creaminess radiates with every ray of sun that shines in the room from two giant windows. A short hallway splits two sides of the room down the middle, three vanities on each side. Blow dryers, sinks, shampoos, colorful things in clear jars that I am not sure of all sit neatly on the vanities. There are six rooms, or "Prep stations" in the hallway, where the true magic happens. But before I can manage to fully submerge from the hallway Octavia spots me and lets out a squeak.

"Peeta!" her voice wails out and silences the entire room and all eyes turn towards me. Octavia rushes over to me and draws me into a vicious hug, "I can't believe you're getting married!" Her arms snake themselves around me and constrict me from moving my arms. The room fills up with murmurs and the people go back to what they were doing.

"Shhh, Octavia. No one is supposed to know about that until tonight." I say, harshly reprimanding her.

"I know, Peeta, but I'm just so excited." She says, bursting with joy.

The way Octavia speaks to me makes it seem as if we've known each other for an eternity. It's been two days since I met the plump makeup artist and she seems to have quite an attachment to me. Her lengthy auburn hair tickles my chest and her forehead nudges my collarbone. Right on my bruise.

I wince and Octavia immediately pulls back. Her thin, brown eyebrows knit into a confused expression.

"What's wrong, Peeta?" She asks. Flavius and Venia flock to me and examine me with the same worried expression.

"It's nothing," I say, trying to dismiss the whole thing. It doesn't work.

Venia eyes my chest and pushes some of the robe off of my shoulder with her long fingers. Her eyes go wide as she stares at the mark.

"Oh dear," She whispers and puts the robe back in its place as if not to anger the mark. Octavia lets out a small shriek and Flavius just stands there, his purple painted lips slightly ajar.

"Did Finnick—"

"Yes, I guess he got a little bit too excited on our first night." I chuckle and try as hard as I can to dismiss the bruises as mere love bites and rough play. Venia eyes me, as if she doesn't believe me, but if she doesn't, she never says anything. The air in the room becomes tense and some of the other prep team members are casting glances in our direction, again. Flavius finally clears his throat, "Well, shall we get started?"

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><p>3 hours later, I'm not Peeta anymore.<p>

A new creature stares at me in the mirror of a vanity set in one of the prep station and he is radiant. His hair falls in golden waves over his forehead. His cheeks are made of porcelain. His blemishes are nonexistent.

As I admire this new creature's beauty, somebody walks into the prep station.

"Well, aren't you stunning?" a soft voice comes from behind me.

I find a man with short cropped brown hair and light, caramel skin's reflection in the mirror and I watch as he steps further into the room. This must be Cinna, my stylist.

Between the dozens of people I've met during the moving process in the last two days, this man was not one of them. His appearance comes as bit of a shock. Compared to the dyed green skin of Octavia or the aqua hair of Venia, this man is actually normal. He has metallic gold eyeliner that compliments his bright green eyes. His jet black buttoned-down shirt is slightly opened, adding even more effect to his attractiveness.

"Thank you," I say in a hushed voice. He walks over to a pair of blue couches in the back of the room. A small clear table in between them. He gestures to come sit across from him and I comply. I pull my thin robe tighter against me as I walk over to him. I sit and he presses a button on the side of the table. Two mugs of piping hot coffee appear in front of us.

"I'm Cinna," he stretches out his hand for me to shake, "And I'll be your stylist for the wedding."

I shake his hand and then awkwardly place it in my lap.

"I'm sorry I didn't order more," he gestures to the mugs, "I know you've planned to have brunch with Mr. Odair."

I can barely manage not to roll my eyes.

I murmur, "Don't remind me."

"What was that?" Cinna asks.

"Nothing."

I pick up the mug and take a sip. Cinna's eyes stay trained on mine while I taste the bitterness of the coffee. It could use some sugar.

"Well, my sister Portia and I were thinking over your wedding suit," says Cinna.

I nod my head, telling him to continue.

"But, that's months away,"

"Eleven I think."

"Right, but your first big event will be the engagement party."

Oh right, the engagement party. An extravagant event celebrating the impending marriage of two lovers. There will be lots of food, people, and fake smiles. A total front, on my part. I'll have to wait an entire month for that exciting time celebrating the love between Finnick and me. I don't understand why it's going to take that long, but I don't mind. Finnick proposed only three days ago and I've already been moved into his home. Things are moving quickly and I doubt I'll be able to keep up. But, I guess since his father is the President of Panem, it has to be one of the biggest parties of the year, besides the actual wedding.

"What did you have in mind?" I ask curiously. Even though this is my first time meeting him, something tells me Cinna has a creative mind.

"Something subtle," Cinna says. _Something subtle? Is that even possible in the Captiol?_

"But also something to catch the eyes of the crowd at the event." I nod my head again and take another sip of the coffee.

Cinna leans forward and props his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his linked hands.

"How do you feel about fire?"

* * *

><p>"So Peeta," Finnick takes a sip of his orange juice, "how was your morning?"<p>

I sit in front of him at a small table on the back patio of the mansion. The table is a fine glass with a giant umbrella extending from the middle, protecting us from the rays of an angry sun in the midday. The giant maze garden —almost 6 feet high— looks breathtaking even in the autumn season of October. Campanulas, Boltonias, Aster Honeysongs, line the hedges of the garden. But what's especially interesting, are the white roses in the far back of the garden. President Snow has a greenhouse, but that's attached to the mansion. If you go past the maze garden, you'll find a tennis court. I'd never even heard of the game until I came to the Capitol. Apparently, it was popular in another time. Before the Dark Days. Near the tennis court, there is a pool lined with concrete and colored tiles. The tiles are pastels of pink, yellow, green and blue. The blues remind me of the color of Finnick's…

"Oh," I suddenly remember Finnick has asked me a question, "It was delightful," I say in my most charming voice. I feel the cameras on my face and I decided to add more, "But it's even more delightful with you."

His lips curve into a triumphant smile and I know the citizens of the Capitol will eat this up when they see it tomorrow and officially learn of our impending marriage. This, along with the proposal that will be happening later tonight, will appear on a special called "Finnick and Peeta's Journey to the Alter". Corny. I know. But, every time a president's child gets married, there's a big broadcast that details every moment leading up to the "I do's". I watched Annie Cresta, Finnick's younger sister, get married a short while after I moved to the Capitol. She looked joyful in every moment and I truly believed she couldn't wait to get married to her deceased husband, Rowan Cresta.

The Capitol goes crazy for this kind of entertainment and so, we'll have to repeat the proposal that took place a few nights ago. It wasn't recorded but this time it will be. For all audiences across Panem.

He cuts a piece of his pancake and dips a piece in a small cup of syrup. He sticks his fork out towards me, an offering. I lift up off of my seat and he slides the fork into my mouth. I chew it while putting on a grin as if I'm actually enjoying this. He takes my hand in his and kisses it. I swallow and then smile. My eyes catch something white in one of the windows on the top floor past Finnick's head and in the West wing. It's one of the roses from the garden and it's attached to President Coriolanus Snow. He smiles in a way a snake would right before it catches it's pray. I blink and he's disappeared. Maybe, he wasn't there at all. I can't be sure but Finnick doesn't give me time to wonder as he turns my face back to him and captures my lips with his.

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><p>Finnick clutches my face with one of his greedy hands. His knee is in between my legs and his arm is extended with his hand touching the wall next to my head. I'm trapped.<p>

"Peeta, don't resist your lover," He says behind gritted teeth.

"To be a lover you actually have to love, you heartless bastard," I spit out venomously.

"You're right," Finnick gives a laugh and then roughly yanks my hair back. I wince which causes him to laugh wickedly again.

"I meant to say," He yanks my hair back even more and I cry out.

"Don't resist your master," He grabs me by the arm and pulls me into his bedroom. I'm roughly thrown onto his king-sized bed and he slowly crawls on top of me.

He starts to bite on my neck and I so badly want to scream out, but President Snow's warning rushes back into my mind.

"_Peeta Mellark, it's always pleasant to see you," President Snow says behind one of his snake like smiles. His puffy lips makes it hard to look at for too long. And his scent makes things completely unbearable. Roses and…blood? I sit in his study which includes hundreds of books that I've never read or heard of. I don't know why I've been called to his mansion, but I can only hope I didn't do something wrong. _

"_Thank you sir, it's always pleasant to see you, too," I lie and display a gracious smile. He folds his hands together on his sleek, brown desk. A single white rose rests in a clear vase. _

"_Well, you must be curious as to why I've called you here," He says and I nod my head._

_He continues, "You've met my son, Finnick, yes?"_

"_I've met him once, I think." _

"_Well, he seems to have an infatuation with the young baker's son." I realize that he is talking about me._

"_An infatuation?" I don't know what he means. _

"_Yes, he's actually quite taken with you."_

"_Quite taken with me?" I ask. President Snow nods his head. This isn't making any sense at all. Finnick and I have never had any meaningful interactions. _

"_I don't understand. I've only met him once." _

"_Call it," He picks his hands up off of the desk and twirls the rose around in the face with a finger, "Love at first sight." _

_I'm still not following what he is saying, "Ok…so what do you want me to do about that?"_

"_I want you to marry him." His voice is clear cut like the edge of steel._

_What? My mouth hangs unhinged to my jaw, "Marry him?"_

"_You see, the Capitol is growing restless. They need," he pauses, "A source of entertainment."_

_I can feel a small wave of anger rise up inside of me. "And getting married against my will is going to be their entertainment?"_

"_These citizens of the Capitol always get exuberant over romances like these."_

"_Romances like what?" The wave becomes stronger, a tsunami, "I hardly know him, I hardly know anyone in this place!"_

"_But you know your family, don't you?" He asks._

"_Yes, but__—"_

"_What if you didn't know them anymore?"_

"_Wha-what do you mean?" I stutter out._

"_Well say there is an accident…"_

Finnick thrusts into me and I'm brought out of my reverie. I find my shirt ripped open and my pants are off.

"Don't worry, it won't be long," He says, but I know he's lying. Finnick could do this to me for hours.

When he's finally done, I lay there out of breath, feeling used.

"Clean yourself up," He murmurs and then he's gone. I can't bear to lay in his bed any longer. I get up slowly, knowing that if I move too fast a sharp pain will shoot up my backside. I learned that the hard way last night.

I limp back to my room hoping not to be seen by an avox. I manage to get to my room unseen and I barely make it to the toilet before I start vomiting.

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><p>"Are you ok, Peeta? I heard you had an upset stomach earlier," Effie asks in such a concerned tone that for a second, she sounds more like a mother than my actual mother.<p>

"I'm fine, thanks Effie," I say while having Octavia put the finishing touches on my makeup.

"Ok, we're about to start rolling," says Atala in a stern tone. She's the director of this debacle and will be capturing the mesmerizing moments Finnick and I will share on our journey to the alter. I'm currently standing under a gazebo in the midst of the garden.

"Dazzle them," Effie says and walks off of the giant gazebo. Finnick appears out of now here and sits at the table in the middle of the gazebo. Grilled chicken, green beans, rolls shaped like stars sit on the white plates. He flashes a smile at me and gestures for me to sit down. I swallow my disgust down and take my seat in front of him. A single candle flames in between us and illuminates the dark night.

The cameras begin to roll and we make small talk like a normal couple. Its times like these that I actually believe that Finnick is a human being.

And then comes the part that no one suspected. Finnick gets down on one knee and pops open a ring box that has "Peeta" engraved on it.

"Peeta Mellark, will you marry me?" He asks in his sweetest voice. I look into his eyes and behind them I know there is coldness. A darkness that will absorb me for the rest of my life.

I smile.

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><p><em>Please review it if you liked it or even if you didn't. Feedback is always great and I like reading my reviewers stories, so pleases review. Thankss, bankss.<em>


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